


Be Mine

by biblionerd07



Series: In Times of War [5]
Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Epic Bromance, Gen, Sassy Bass, grumpy Miles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 12:00:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biblionerd07/pseuds/biblionerd07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miles isn't grumpy because it's Valentine's Day; he's just grumpy, and it happens to <i>be</i> Valentine's Day.  Platonic Miloe fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be Mine

Miles stomped into the barracks and threw his pack onto his bed. A road march was never fun, but in February? It had started out cold and wet and muddy and ended with snow thanks to an unusual cold snap. His socks were soaked through and his ears felt like they were frostbitten. He’d thought road marches would be over once they were out of boot camp, but here he was, a lance corporal, dripping wet and grumpy.

He went to find his poker group and was annoyed to find himself mostly alone. Where was everyone? He went to Bass’s room and found him reading a book at his desk. For some reason this made Miles more annoyed.

“Poker?” He asked without preamble.

“Miles, do you know what day it is?” Bass didn’t even look up from his book.

Miles threw his hands in the air in the universal, “What?” stance, even though Bass wasn’t actually looking at him.

“Dude, it’s Valentine’s Day. Guys are calling their girlfriends.”

Miles rolled his eyes. _Valentine’s Day?_ Seriously? He didn’t realize Marines would care about that crap. Some of them were married or whatever, but he thought Marines were supposed to be tough, not sending hearts and teddy bears. He wondered for a second if things would be different if Emma hadn’t written him a Dear John letter two weeks into boot camp but pushed the thought from his mind. Thinking about that would just make him pissed at Bass again and he hated being pissed at Bass. If he didn’t hang out with Bass it meant he had to hang out alone, because Bass was really his only friend; the other guys let him hang around because they all liked Bass and Bass made it clear he and Miles were a package deal. The two weeks he didn’t speak to Bass when Bass had confessed to sleeping with Emma had been horrible and lonely and being lonely gave Miles too much time to think.

“This is stupid.” Miles declared with his hands on his hips.

“You’re awfully grumpy considering you didn’t even know it was Valentine’s Day.” Bass finally set the book down and looked up at Miles. Bass was doing that thing he did when he was thinking where he blinked slowly and ran a finger over his lips. Women went crazy for it; Miles had personally seen dozens of women watch Bass blink like that and then push themselves up against him. It was infuriating Miles.

“That road march didn’t piss you off?” Miles flopped onto Bass’s bed.

“Well, I was pissed while we were doing it.” Bass shrugged and started spinning his desk chair. “But I got over it, Miles, because I’m not a fourteen-year-old girl.”

“Fuck you.”

“Come on, buddy, I’m trying to make you laugh. A laughing Miles is a fun Miles. You want to find some whiskey and get drunk?” Bass suggested over his shoulder as the chair spun away from Miles.

“Nah, you can’t afford to get in trouble again.”

“More like _you_ can’t. I outscore you on every test, brother.” Bass reminded him.

“Yeah, except every field test we’ve ever taken.” Miles shot back. He was being a jerk but he couldn’t seem to help it. Bass stopped the chair’s orbit and looked up to the ceiling with exaggerated exasperation.

“Lord, I’m not sure what I did in my past life to deserve being saddled with this dick face. Give me thoust strengtheth before I kick his ass.”

“Thoust strengtheth?” Miles repeated incredulously.

“You gotta add lots‘a “th”s when you’re talking to God, Miles. Duh.” Bass gave him a silly grin and went back to spinning. “Hey, go get yours.” Bass said. “Let’s race.”

They had a few hallway chair races, but it was way less exciting without other guys placing bets. Besides, team races were always more fun because then Bass and Miles both got to win. They were undefeated.

Eventually, enough guys got off the phone to start a poker game. They didn’t play for stakes, since they weren’t really supposed to and, more importantly, none of them had enough money to afford losing it, but some of the older guys were teaching the younger ones how to play and Miles was getting pretty good, if he did say so himself. Not like Bass, who had absolutely no poker face and was always too stubborn to fold.

“So, Matheson, first Valentine’s Day without the fiancé, eh? No Valentine’s cards for you, I guess.”

Miles froze. Most everyone in the unit knew about Emma, but no one had ever said anything to him about it (he suspected Bass had something to do with that) and certainly no one had taunted him. The guy who’d spoken, Anderson, was smirking like he’d decided enough time had passed to give Miles a hard time. Bass cleared his throat.

“Hey, Anderson, you want to shut it?” Bass said casually, his face lighting up as he glanced down at his cards.

“Oh, I forgot you didn’t like people talking ‘bout your boyfriend’s ex.” Anderson sneered at Bass.

“I mostly don’t like people being assholes.” Bass was glaring at Anderson without realizing he was flashing his cards at everyone, cards that were not as good as the look on his face had warranted.

“Bass, it’s okay,” Miles muttered, face flaming. He left his cards on the table and stood up. “I’m, uh, I’m gonna take a walk.”

“Miles—”

“No, it’s okay. I’m fine. Keep playing. And take some of my cards ‘cause you need them. Trust me.” He tried to flash a smile at Bass, though he wasn’t sure why—Bass could always see right through his fake smiles anyway.

Miles wandered the halls aimlessly for a while. He didn’t care about a stupid holiday or getting dumb cards. But Anderson’s jab had stung a little. It wasn’t so much about Emma—Miles still missed her sometimes, especially when he was stuck on base, but time and distance was showing him they probably wouldn’t have had as happy a marriage as he’d fantasized. The truth was Miles was a little lonely. The only reason he wasn’t completely miserable was because Bass wouldn’t let him be. As soon as he started to get mopey, Bass pulled him back on track.

Miles went back to his room just before lights out. Not getting to share a room with Bass sucked, more so because Miles’s bunkmate was a guy with awful body odor and almost zero social skills. Miles ignored him and flung himself onto his bed. Something crinkled under him. He pulled a torn piece of paper out from under his left arm, squinting at a crudely drawn penis. Underneath it, in Bass’s impatient, slanted handwriting, were the words: _Here’s a Valentine’s Day card. You have a good dick._

Miles covered his eyes with his arm and laughed until he thought he was going to pass out. Bass was kind of an idiot, and sometimes Miles thought he wanted to kill his best friend, but he didn’t know what he would do without Bass. If he had to have a Valentine, he supposed he could have done worse than the one person who had never let him down.


End file.
